


Light 'Em Up, Up, Up

by TheRighteousMan (FullmetalFlameElric)



Series: I'm on Fire [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M, M/M, Mind Games, Necromancy, Other, Revolution, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft, Witches, familiar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalFlameElric/pseuds/TheRighteousMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark<br/>Can't be sure when they've hit their mark, mark<br/>And besides in the mean, mean time<br/>I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Making Wishes in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this I had the idea for a while ago. I've always liked the ideas of Dean and Sam as witches, but there really aren't many around. So.. here's my addition. And as always, it's morphed into something... big. Title and theme for the fic [HERE](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkIWmsP3c_s).
> 
> Note, the prologue is just a prologue hence the shortness. Chapters might take a while to get out, but that's because I want to make them longer and stretch my abilities to the best I can for details. So please, be patient.

The night was dark, rain falling lightly against the pavement in a ratta-tat-tat-ratta-tat pattern. It was the steady sound a drum beat of the night. The earth was in tune to it, a loaded gun waiting to go off. The wind rustling the leaves as a steady breath, that of a sniper steadying his hand before the bang. The electric charge in the air the twitch of a finger against a trigger. A bend in the air was the trigger pulling back, the echoing rumble of thunder the hammer striking and igniting. The discharge and flash a brilliant spider’s fingered stretch of lightning spreading across the night sky and lighting up the dark world one white blaze of heat and energy.

A sleeping city drowning in the spit of a drooling hound, waiting to strike. Streetlights glowing like the burning eyes of Hell. A rumble of thunder further off rolled like a growl deep in a muscled neck, hackles raised as the flash of teeth reflected the light of the fire. It’s breath hot as the pits it was born of. The city was trapped. The buildings nothing more than another poor soul trapped in the depths of fire and brimstone. The smell of ozone and polluted rain stinging the nose like sulfur.

Within it all, a pair of searing blue eyes peered out from beneath the hood of a car, the black paint shivering in the light. Rain danced over the waxed surface as it continued to fall in the same ratta-tat-tat-ratta-tat pattern against the roof. Black fur, darker than the depths of the night, closed over the blue orbs, blocking out the sapphire eyes for a moment before blinking open once more. Inside, the thumber resonated against the shell of the vehicle and intensified the sound like a bell. Slim, black feline ears flattened themselves against an equally black head and the blue eyes narrowed at the sky. A low growl emitted from the young cat’s throat.

A door slammed open further down the alley, bouncing off the stone wall and creating a metal echo that bounced along the granite and brick of the passage between buildings. A high pitched soprano in a choir of baritones. Blue eyes snapped in the direction, focusing on the figure emerging into the rain, taking shape like gollum from the clay as the man separated from the darkness beyond the entryway.

Lightning flashed and a flare of emerald sparked from the man’s eyes, visible from his distance from the car. The shadow of him loomed high on the alley walls as he made his way to the ‘67 Impala parked at the mouth of the passage. From within, black paws pressed against the glass and a soft meow sounded through the reinforced window.

Moving around the other side, a hand reached out from the sleeve of a dark green military styled jacket, gripping the door handle and opening the door. A rush of spring air, fresh with energy flooded in before the man slipped inside and the door shut once more with a creak. The cat stumbled in his hurry to turn and face the man, a meow echoing in the quiet of the car.

Green eyes closed for a second before opening and looking over to where the cat was no longer sitting, but a man with tousled black hair and eyes the same shocking blue. Sighing, the first reached forward and turned a key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life with a rumble and purr in mirror of the cat once within.

“We got work to do...”

**Prologue: Making Wishes in the Dark**


	2. Hoodoo Voodoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sammy?” the voice sounded clearer now, shocked to even be considering it.
> 
> Sam let out a shaky, half-hearted chuckle. “Hey, Dean...”
> 
> It was silent a short moment before a soft growl sounded. “The hell do you want?”
> 
> Sam flinched. “Look, I know I promised I’d leave you alone, but I really need your help on something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa this is probably the longest chapter I've written for.. well... anything. Enjoy... seriously. I'm breaking my back on research for this. 
> 
> Also, the song is "Hoodoo Voodoo Medicine Man" by Aerosmith

**Chapter 1 Hoodoo Voodoo**

“Damn it’s pouring out...”

The lace curtain fell back into it’s place as the large hand holding it back let go and withdrew. Behind, Sam Winchester’s face disappeared from the outside world as he turned to look over his shoulder further into the dimly lit study. His brown hair curled slightly, falling into his peridot eyes and he tossed his head slightly to clear his vision.

The man sitting at the desk, beard and hair tinged with grey, didn’t look up from the book he was looking through. “Maybe you should get that cut, some time soon...”

“I’ll get to it...” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes and stepping over to the rumpled looking older man. “So... any idea what we’re working with yet, Bobby?”

The man snorted and finally looked up, shooting the younger man a look of annoyance. “Sam, I ain’t the witch here.” He countered, voice a little bit lower in his annoyance. “Let me work at my normal human pace in peace, or you can do the job you should be doing and let me make supper.”

Sam paused, eyeing the study closely and sighed. “I’ll take care of supper. No offense or anything, Bobby, but if I have to eat another steak this week, I’m going to turn your grill into a cow that grills itself...”

The elder man looked mildly intrigued by the idea, but waved it off. “You wouldn’t waste the energy. Not this close to a hunt...” He countered.

“Don’t tempt me..” Sam muttered his expression souring slightly at the very accurate assessment. One of these days he’d be reckless and spontaneous with his energy. He just had to get strong enough first.

Sighing, he stepped over to the desk and looked over the newspaper clippings. It was a grim scene. So far there were a total of six victims. None of them were related, not that Sam and Bobby could find, anyway. The majority were women, only two were men. They ranged in age from their teens to their early forties. All six were from separate parts of the city, some single, a few in relationships or married, one even lived with his parents. The closest to a pattern they had was evidence that three of them had been to the same bar the week before.

Each victim was found in their beds. The bodies were drained of blood with no signs of struggle. No traces of assault or being restrained. There wasn’t even a single shred of evidence of breaking and entering.

“I still don’t get it. This sounds like vampires, but.. it’s too clean...” Sam muttered in thought.

“For a family of ‘em...” Bobby agreed, flipping another page in his current book. “But they don’t go off on their own. Practically suicide if they do...” He grumbled, slamming the book shut and moving onto another one. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out... till then, what’s supper?”

Sam paused and looked up from the newsclipping he was looking at. Shifting under Bobby’s gaze, he cleared his throat and nodded. “Right... I’ll uh... I’ll get on that... Gotta make a supply run..” he muttered, digging into his pocket to retrieve his keys. Nothing.

“On the key ring in the kitchen...” Bobby prompted, lifting a brow.

“Right... Right...” He shifted awkwardly, feeling up his pockets and glancing around. “Uh... right... I’ll be... back...” he muttered, turning to leave.

“Idjit...”

 

☽◯☾

 

By the time Sam was pulling up to the local market, he was seriously questioning his sanity. The downpour had become more of a deluge. Of course, this could just be his luck. Sighing, he put his Mustang into park and cut the engine. Some idiot had ridden a motorcycle here. Sam felt no pity for the bastard.

No on in their right minds was out today. Not if they could avoid it. Sam could have avoided it. Sure. If he sucked it up and suffered another artery clogging T-Bone steak dinner. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to himself one more night. Not without at least a salad to go with it. He needed something green. That had never gone “moo” in it’s life. So, bracing himself, Sam took a steadying breath and opened the door.

The change was immediate. Wind rushing into the car and swirling around. Rain whipped against his face and his hair lashed out in the mix. Grabbing his keys and tightening his jacket around himself, Sam slammed his door shut and darted through the rain and into the store. He almost landed on his ass upon hitting the wet linoleum.

Regaining his footing, Sam glanced around and cleared his throat. No one was paying attention. There was the cashier at the only open isle, a book open before her and her music on as one headphone dangled loosely to the table. The bubble of her gum popped with a loud smack and she flipped the page.

Alright then.

With that, Sam grabbed a basket and slowly made his way into the shop. He meandered through the isles, occasionally grabbing items and adding them to his basket. He wasn’t really in any hurry to get back into the rain. And the more time he spent out of the house, the more time Bobby could work his mojo and find what they were looking for. The sound of someone rifling around in the candy section caught his attention and he poked his head around the corner.

A shorter man stood in a leather jackets covered in drying rain. Leather pants hugged his hips and thighs, tucked into a pair of biker boots that were secured up to mid calf. His hair, a golden color, was pushed back, a few bangs falling along his brow. Honey colored eyes scanned the selection as he snagged a few candy bars from here and there. His basket currently held enough to feed a small army of children.

But the odd thing? The large Maine Coon curled up along his shoulders. The long fur was well groomed, a classic brown tabby coloring to the coat. Unusual blue eyes stared bored back out at the world as it lazily looked around. It paused, catching Sam’s gaze and stared at him unblinking. The amount of intelligence in that cat’s eyes scared him.

He took a small step back just as honey colored eyes lifted to him as well. The man looked him over before flashing a lopsided smile and nodding.

Sam just managed a small, nervous smile of his own and returned the gesture before hurrying off to the check out. He wasn’t even going to begin to start on what was wrong with that scene.

Reaching the counter, he set the basket down and offered a small smile to the cashier. She smiled and set her book aside. “Nice day to go shopping...” she stated, tone bordering on friendly flirting.

Sam chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck for a second. “Yeah... tell me about it.” He muttered, offering a lopsided grin. It was an expression his brother would have called “the cute puppy” look. Of course, his brother wasn’t someone he tried to think about on a regular basis, so he mentally shoved the thought to the back of his head.

Paying for his purchases, Sam grabbed his bags and made the mad dash back out to his Mustang. He was so not looking forward to the drive back to Bobby’s.

 

☽◯☾

 

The strike of a match. The flare of flame seconds before the flash of ignition. The substance crackled, burned as it was consumed by the flames inside the golden bowl. A hand reached out, a white gold ring glittering on the right ring finger as the calloused fingers lifted twenty-four stones from the wooden table. A series of three circles, each smaller than the last and placed within, was carved into the surface. A low voice, rough and pitched deep, murmured a chant as the fingers mixed the stones. Drawing three, the others were set aside. The other three were laid out, green eyes scouring them. The man’s breathing hitched.

Raidho _travel, change of scenery, life evaluation_... Gebo Merkstave _Loneliness, dependance, sacrifice_.... Hagalaz _Wrath, destructive, trial_...

The hand shook, scooping them back up and repeating the process to the same outcome. Finally, a second pair of hands, slightly smaller and paler than the first.

“...It won’t change, Love...” The voice, deeper and rougher than the first spoke up. “Not tonight... not under this moon... come to bed...”

 

☽◯☾

 

“Get up, ya idgit..” Bobby’s growled, a pillow smacking Sam in the face. The younger male gasped and groaned, shifting on his small temporary cot. His bed was currently covered in textbooks and he’d been too tired to put it all away. “Your case just got weirder. You need to get up and book it there before someone else claims it. I’ll keep researching back here.”

Sam groaned and cracked open an eye to look at the other. “You’re the Devil..”

“Whatever. Now go.”

“But the sun’s not even up!”

“Go!”

 

☽◯☾

**Green Bay, Wisconsin**

_Read it in the paper it ain't fair You know who today don't seem to care Livin', lovin', gettin' loose Masturbatin' with a noose Now someone's kickin' out the chair Some kind of voodoo Come across this land Some kind of voodoo Be the medicine man_

Pulling up in front of the local hospital, Sam paused to dig through his glove compartment looking for the right ID card. Finding the one with FBI on it, he snagged it and slipped it into his inner blazer pocket. Checking his hair once, he got out and scanned the streets.

Didn’t seem too busy or too dead out for a sunny day. Of course, the clouds looming in the distance only made the air heavier. He could already feel the nervous energy in the air crackling around him. But there was something else. An underlying calm that wasn’t natural. He marked that away for later and stepped inside.

Side stepping a few patients and nurses, he made his way to the main desk. Behind it, a young blond woman looked up. She caught sight of him, her cheeks coloring rouge as she quickly dealt with a caller and hung up. “Can I help you?”

Sam offered a friendly smile and flashed his badge. “There was a girl brought in just last night... I need to speak with her if she’s awake.”

The receptionist blinked a few times, brown eyes wide and focused on the badge before turning back to Sam. “Of course...” she replied, turning to her computer. She brought up the records before writing it down. “There... Amanda Thul. She’s in room 243 on floor 2.”

Sam took the small post it note with the name and room number and nodded his thanks. “Thank you...” he added before heading off to an elevator.

The room he found himself entering was one of the regular rooms, luckily not in the intensive care unit. He was almost worried he was going to find his only chance at a breakthrough on this case half alive.

Inside, a woman was lying back in the only bed in the room. Her red hair was short, choppy, and messy from the attack and the rubbing of the pillow against the red locks. An IV was hooked up to her hand as well as a heart rate monitor, but nothing else it seemed. Hearing Sam’s knock, she blinked open grey eyes.

“Hi... I’m Agent Spangler. I was wondering if you’d be up to answering a few questions about last night’s attack.” Sam asked, stepping in and showing his badge once more. She studied his badge a second before turning her focus to him. Now that he was closer, he could see the empty nail beds where her fingernails had once been. A few of her teeth were missing as well, ripped out at the root from the looks of it. There were a number of scratches on her face, neck, and arms as well.

“Amanda..” she croacked out. Sam offered a reassuring smile and nodded. He took a seat beside her bed, shifting closer so she wouldn’t have to talk as loud. It’d be easier on her.

“What can you tell me about the attack?”

She shifted a bit, thinking it over. “I went out for a drink with my girlfriend... she’s a cop and she got called in on her day off. I told her I could get home on my own and she left.” Amanda paused, taking a moment to swallow the build up of saliva forming in the gaps between her teeth. The way she moved her jaw looked painful even with the pain meds she was likely on. “I remember... I was walking passed the old fishing mill and I heard a dog... It sounded hurt so I went to take a look.... And that’s when this... guy grabbed me from behind...”

“What do you remember about your attacker?” Sam asked, taking quick notes of what she was saying.

“Um...” she frowned, her brow furrowing as she swallowed once more with a wince. “He was tall... slightly darker skin...” her frown deepened, more confused now. “He kept talking about... the missing piece... and the spirits needed him to do this...” Amanda turned her grey eyes to Sam, wide and worried. “He’s not gonna come back for me is he? I’m not gonna have some madman stalking me? What about my girlfriend?”

Sam shifted and gently shushed her. “Hey... hey, relax. We’re not gonna let anything or one hurt you or your girlfriend, alright?” he waited until she nodded. “Good... now was there anything else?”

Amanda seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding. “He had a tattoo... of a skeleton wearing a black suit and top hat...”

Sam blinked and lifted a brow before making a note of it. Oh that’s not good... “Alright... if that’s all, I’ll let you rest.” he stated, producing a business card for her. “Contact me if you remember anything else you think is important...”

She took it and nodded.

He had a call to make. And he really wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

☽◯☾

 

The phone rang thrice before it was picked up, the sound of someone breathing deeply as if having just woken up. It was possible considering it was nearly ten where Sam was.

“Hello?” the gravel laden fatigued voice Sam used to hear everyday growing up. Hearing it very nearly made him lose all resolve and hang up. “Sammy?” the voice sounded clearer now, shocked to even be considering it.

Sam let out a shaky, half-hearted chuckle. “Hey, Dean...”

It was silent a short moment before a soft growl sounded. “The hell do you want?”

Sam flinched. “Look, I know I promised I’d leave you alone, but I really need your help on something.”

“Find someone else.” was the gruff reply. He just knew Dean was going to hang up.

“I can’t!” Sam snapped. He could hear dean pausing before his voice sounded again.

“Why?”

“Because no one else knows as much as you do about the dead and the forces linked to it... at least not that I know...” Oh it burned to almost admit that. Tasted horrible on his tongue.

“Kills you to say that, doesn’t it?” He sounded smug. Jerk.

“Don’t push it...”

“....Fine. What do you need?” He could hear Dean sigh heavily in the background. Well fuck you too...

“There’s something going on here in Green Bay that’s not sitting right with me. I talked to the only witness and she described her attacker as having a tattoo with a skeleton in a suit with a top hat. If it’s the guy I’m hunting then he’s been draining people of blood and collecting teeth and fingernails..”

“Son of a bitch... alright. Look, I’m in Texas right now. I can’t be there right off the bat, but I can get there by tomorrow night. Till then, there’s someone I know that could help you out till I get there... He’s nearby...”

Sam hesitated here. A friend of Dean’s? He could hardly stand Dean himself, and they were brothers! But the help would be.. well... helpful.

“Fine.. there’s a mill I’m going to check out tomorrow around noon. It’s an old fishing mill. Have him meet me there at 12?”

“Got it. I’ll give you a call right about then too to make sure he gets there. He’s a great guy and all, but punctuality is not his forte.”

“yeah... I got it. Talk to you then.” Sam muttered before hanging up. He pressed the corner of his cell phone to his forehead and groaned. Oh this was going to suck. He was going to regret this. He just knew it.

 

☽◯☾

 

The Blue Moon was a small bar nestled between larger buildings on the stretch along the beach of the bay. It wasn’t the classiest of places, but it wasn’t a complete dive either. It also, was extremely unhelpful as Sam found out. The owner and workers had seen nothing. No one seemed to recall the victims. Of which Sam was willing to call bull shit on.

The only redeeming fact of making the trip out there, was it’s location to the old fish mill. It was just across the street and down a ways from the bar, standing abandoned and alone. Too historical to get rid of. Too run down for anyone to try and fix it.

It was there, he found himself waiting, his car parked out front of the building. It was a warm day, the air humid and heavy with moisture from the approaching clouds in the distance. The night before, he’d seen a ring around the moon. The weather had followed him from South Dakota apparently.

“Dean... I really need your help...” he whispered. Taking three quick, short breaths, Sam closed his eyes and slowly breathed out. In that second his body altered it’s rhythms. His heart rate slowed and his pulse switched to a crawl. His breathing was shallow and slow. His mind went blank, brain waves changed to mimic deep sleep. Around him, he could feel the surge and ebb of energy in the earth. Five main points. North. South. East. West. Himself in the center. The fifth point he pushed his mind out to, focusing on the last image he could recall of his elder brother. It took longer than it used to for him to find that familiar flare of fire. That’s what Dean had always felt like to Sam. Fire and that electric thrill along the spine. Dean felt like power, controlled and wild at the same time, and it was familiar and Sam still felt secure with the feeling. His big brother was always there to save him when he was younger.

He missed having his brother close... He missed home.

“Got your feelers out for your brother, there?” An amused, almost cocky sounding voice spoke up from nearby.

Being jolted from his trance, Sam gasped, doubling over as his pulse skyrocketed and his heart rate peaked dangerously. A hand on his shoulder settled and a soothing calm filtered through, resetting his rhythms and easing the other.

“Easy there, Bucko... Can’t have you dying under my watch. Dean would have my head.”

Sam snapped his gaze up to meet golden eyes. “You!” he gasped, recognizing the man from the market just two days ago. The cat was still on his shoulders, sizing him up as if judging him. It seemed to be scowling at him disapprovingly.

The man’s grin widened. “Me!” he replied, chirping cheerfully as he tilted his head. The cat gave him a disgruntled look.

“You’re the guy from the market!”

A wink and the man offered a two fingered salute from his brow and out. “Name’s Gabriel. Nice to meet ya, Sammy. Your brother’s told me a hella lot ‘bout you...”

Sam looked him over a moment, letting it sink in. Really, when he thought about it, this guy was exactly the company his brother would keep. Insane. And likely a douchebag.

“So Dean said you needed some help with a nasty?”

Sam blinked and nodded. “Uh.. yeah.... Nice cat.” he added, looking to the still staring cat. God that thing creeped him out. He felt naked in front of it.

Gabriel wickedly smirked and reached up to ruffle the cat’s perfectly groomed ruff. “Thanks. Balthy’s been with me for a few years now.” he cooed, earning a dirty look from the cat. If looks could kill... Balthy? Really? Where the hell did Dean find this guy? Actually...

“How do you know my brother?”

Gabriel’s smirk broadened a bit at that. “Worked a few cases together. Hung out when we’re bored and there’s nothing else to do.” He shrugged and clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly. “Now! What’re we lookin’ at?”

Sighing, Sam stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well... so far the victims have nothing except the Blue Moon bar in common. This last one managed to get out alive due to a cop driving by. But not before it could remove her fingernails and start on her teeth. Not to mention the other vics were drained completely of blood.”

“Any theories yet?” Gabriel asked, his smirk not in place now as he held Sam’s gaze. The taller shook his head.

“No.... Bobby’s looking into a few possibles but nothing that matches so far..”

Gabriel nodded, frowning in thought. It almost had Sam worried until the smirk returned. “Let’s have a looksie, shall we?”

The old mill was falling apart inside and out. Support beams from the ceiling had fallen and the roof sagged under the weight, holes allowing light to speckle in through the shingles, or what was left of them. Most of the equipment had been cleared out, dust coating everything from the supports to the floor.

“This place could use a coat of paint... or five.” Gabriel muttered, casting the beam from his flashlight around the largely darkened space. Sam paused and looked at him for a second. Oh god, now he knew how Dean and Gabriel got along. Shaking his head, he turned his focus back to the mill around him.

Nearby, he could hear the elder man shuffling. Despite similarities, he still found the other questionable. As long as he’d known Dean (his entire life, mind you) the man’s choice in friends had always been questionable. Specially is Ash was any indicator. And it seemed as if Gabriel would shape up to be another of those.

A whistle caught his attention and he turned, heading to where Gabriel stood at the entrance. The room, at one point, might have been the ice house.

“I love what they’ve done with the place. Could use a bit more color, though...”

Sam lifted a brow and peered in over the shorter man’s shoulder, lifting his flashlight up a bit to provide more light. What he saw made his heart drop into his stomach.

inside was an alter. A black cloth was draped over the table. Atop were a set of candles, clearly well used with the dried wax dripped down the sides. At the center, a bow of herbs rested, two bones set in the center. A chicken’s foot sat nearby along with a jar of teeth and another of fingernails. A skull rested just behind the bowl, the lower jaw gone. A symbol was branded to the forehead.

“Oh God..”

“Do you see the irony in being a witch and referring to a Christian deity? Nope? Just me then...” Gabriel muttered, stepping further into the room and getting a better look around. “Something obviously lives here....” He continued, casting the light beam around. It glanced over a bed and pile of clothing. At the other end, there was a table with dirty dishes. Beside those, a jar of blood. Sam bit back the urge to gag while Gabriel just looked it over in odd fascination.

“What the hell lives like this... Not any witch I’ve ever heard of...” Sam muttered, cringing as he carefully searched through the clothes. They were covered in blood.

“Brush up on your lore then.” Gabriel advised. He paused as Balthy stood up alert on his shoulders. The cat looked around for a second, eyes sharp and ears pitched forward, listening. The man looked to his cat, frowning. “What is it?”

Seconds later the cat had arched its back, puffing its long fur out to stand on end. A mangy looking dog stepped in, eyes narrowed and teeth bared as it foamed slightly at the mouth. Saliva dripped from his jowls, the jaws opened to reveal a gaping maw of blood stained teeth. Balthy hissed, spitting in warning.

“Sam! Run!” Gabtiel shouted as the dog snarled and lunged into the room.

Sam sidestepped and bolted, Gabriel hot on his heels. A bark sounded and claws hurried after them. Sam bolted for the closest exit, forcing his way out the back facing the bay. He was greeted by downpour, thunder crackling over head. Behind, he heard the door slam open, bouncing off the siding and slamming shut once more as Gabriel followed him out. Neither stopped running as they rounded the front of the building and reached Sam’s car.

There, they paused and listened. Nothing. Panting, Sam slumped against his car and dug out his keys.

“Well that was exciting...” Gabriel muttered, going to where his bike was parked just ahead of Sam’s car and straddling it. Balthy shifted on his shoulders, still looking around nervously and looked unhappy in the current torrential downpour. Wait, shouldn’t the helmet and bike seat be wet? Maybe Sam was seeing things. “Meet you at your motel room. I gotta book a room anyway so I might as well get one near you...” Gabriel muttered, slipping on his helmet. Sam didn’t even get a chance to respond before he revved the engine and peeled away from the curb.

 

☽◯☾

 

“I don’t know, Bobby. It was weird. I’ve never seen any of those symbols before. At least, the few I did recognize, I’ve never seened used in that combination before. That wasn’t normal witchcraft. Not to mention the freaky guard dog...” Sam sighed, pacing across his motel room and pinching the bridge of his nose. The other hand held his phone to his ear, still damp hair falling over the skin and plastic. 

“I dunno what to tell ya, Sam. I ain’t found squat on my end neither. It’s like there’s nothin’ even close to what we’re looking for. And trying to get a hold of more books...” Bobby sighed at the other end of the line. Sam could just see him shaking his head. “Damn near impossible right now.”

“Great... I’ll have to hope Gabriel has a theory...”

“Gabriel?”

“Uh... yeah.... I called Dean...” He heard Bobby inhale sharply at that, but continued on. “He couldn’t make it this morning so he had Gabriel come help me out till he got here... Look I know that we agreed to distance ourselves from Dean cause of the... well... you know. But, I need his help on this one. He knows this stuff.”

“..Fine. What about this Gabriel? Got a last name?”

“Not a clue. He’s just some hunter that Dean knows. Carries this crazy intelligent cat with him though.” Sam added, explaining to Bobby just how intelligent the cat appeared to be.

“A cat?” Bobby repeated.

“Yeah.”

“What color are the eyes?”

“....Blue?” Sam muttered, glancing around the room slightly confused. “Bobby, what-?”

“That ain’t no cat, boy. That’s a familiar. Surprised you didn’t pick up on that. Talkin’ to Dean really that distracting to you?”

“Bobby how do you-?” Sam started, flushing in embarrassment and stammering. Bobby wouldn’t hear it.

“Think about it. Highly intelligent. Too much for a cat. Always with him?”

Ok, really thinking about it, it made sense. But since when did Dean start hanging around witches powerful enough to have familiars? He just didn’t do that. Too messy.

A knock drew his attention. “Fine. Look, I gotta go. I’ll keep you updated.” he stated before hanging up. Pocketing his phone, he opened the door.

Gabriel looked to him, offering a lopsided grin and stepping in like the owned the place, cat on his shoulders. It watched Sam. Familiar. The word sent a ripple of fear down the taller’s spine.

“We’re dealing with a Nagual.” He stated in greeting.

“A Nagual?”

“It’s a mesoamerican shapeshifting witch....” Gabriel hummed, looking over his shoulder at the other. “They use a mix of pagan witchcraft and voodoo. Modern Nagual do at least. They’re known for drinking the blood of people and collecting nails and teeth for spell work. The chicken’s claw was from a black Rumpless chicken...” He added, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Also, you brother, besides providing me with this information, IDed the tattoo.”

Sam blinked, letting it all sink in. ‘And?” he asked, deciding it best to get it all out now and plan how to take this Nagual down.

“It’s Baron Samedi. A Loa or deity in Haitian Voodoo. Guess what he’s the Loa of.”

“The dead?” Sam muttered. After all if Dean knew about it, chanced were good he was right.

“Close. Sex and Resurrection. And the Dead.” Gabriel hummed, nodding. “No idea how he made this far North, however. They usually stick closer to their homelands, if you know what I mean. Whatever this guy was doing was bad. Something big was going to go down with the size of the alter we found... Dean’s gonna take a look at it soon as we get this guy stopped.”

“How do we do that?”

Gabriel grinned, chuckling. ‘Good think about witches, Sammy... you can kill him as easily as normal people.”

“....So what’s the plan?”

 

☽◯☾

 

“This is a stupid plan...” Sam muttered, following Gabriel slowly around the side of the building. It had slowed into a small drizzle now and the mill was once more in sight. Ahead, Sam heard a snort, the sound coming from the cat on Gabriel’s shoulder. He felt incredibly stupid for not recognizing a familiar. He was a witch, damnit.

“Got a better idea?” Gabriel shot back. Sadly, he didn’t.

The bar was closed tonight, a lucky break since the owner had family plans for the next day and a half. It made it easier to make sure there wasn’t another victim that night.

Adjusting his hold on the gun in his hands, Sam glanced behind them once to make sure no one was following them before looking to the mill once more. “Still think this is crazy.’

“Just don’t miss and we won’t have a problem...” Gabriel muttered.

Reaching the mill, Gabriel eased the main doors open enough to slip in, the familiar on his shoulders shifting ever so slightly nervously. The air felt thicker now, thunder rumbling in the distance as the storm moved passed. Inside was silent, no sign of the dog before. No sign of the Nagual.

They moved in a bit more cautiously, flashlights lighting their way as they tried to find the Nagual. They could only hope it was there right now. But the deeper in they moved, the more uneasy Sam became.

“It’s too quiet in here...” Gabriel muttered, frowning as he stopped and turned around to look behind them. His eyes widened. “SAMMY!”

Sam pivoted and came face to face with a man, his skin darkly tanned and teeth glinting in the light of his flashlight. A single black thong held a necklace of small bones around his neck and Sam barely had time to recognize the tattoo on his shoulder before he was thrown back against the wall.the flashlight fell from his grip along with his gun, both clattering to the floor.

There was a cry of pain as Gabriel was treated to a similar response. He landed on the floor a few feet back, eyes widening as he watched the man become the same dog from before and charge him. He scrambled to his feet, yelping as the dog caught his leg and sank his fangs in.

The cat on his shoulders hissed and leapt at the Nagual, claws scoring along the face before it darted back to Gabriel’s shoulders. The man stumbled, climbing as best he could to try and put distance between him and the dog.

It shifted again, the man reappearing. The gun Sam had dropped now rested in his hands, a smirk in place. “Sorry... Nothin’ personal. Just can’ have ye stoppin’ me this far in.” He purred, aiming at Sam, the man still restrained against the wall.

Sam cringed, closing his eyes and bracing for the end. There was a rush of air and a gun shot. No pain. He blinked, opening his eyes.

A fourth figure had shown up. The broad shoulders and bowed legs were the only clue he had to who the newcomer was.

The silver of a knife flashed and the Nagual shrieked in pain, stumbling back before hitting the ground, knife buried deep in his chest. Towering over the fallen Nagual, the figure turned, green eyes meeting Sam’s shocked gaze as the taller dropped to his feet once more.

“Dean..” he whispered, eyes widening.

A got a small twitch of the lips before the man went down, collapsing onto the floor and blood slowly pooling around him.

“DEAN!” He cried, darting over to his brother. He could hear Gabriel calling after the other as well, limping over. Sam was stopped however, as a black cat landed on the ground between he and his brother. Blue eyes narrowed at him, fangs bared as it swiped and hissed.

Lightning flashed, the black coat of the feline going silver in the light as thunder shook the foundations. In that moment, Sam could see the whole where the bullet had torn through his brother’s side and out of his body.


End file.
